


The Mad Hatter and the She-Bear

by hiraethnefarious



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time RPF
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Love, Magic, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethnefarious/pseuds/hiraethnefarious
Summary: Even though he didn't have his Grace, Jefferson was not entirely alone. There was one person who stayed with him, his loyal gardener named Fiona. She, like everyone else in Stroybrooke, has no memories of her previous life, and despite sometimes having to be on the receiving end of Jefferson's rudeness and anger, she will never leave or run away. (Jefferson x O.C)
Relationships: Grace | Paige & Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Mad Hatter | Jefferson/Original Character(s), Mad Hatter | Jefferson/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. The Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I decided to post this old story!! I got the idea for the O.C. from this story: 
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bear_(fairy_tale)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!!!

Out of all the residents in Storybrooke, Jefferson's curse was the worst. Not only was he sent to Storybrooke, but he still had all his memories. He remembered who he was, his Grace and their old home, everything. Every second of the day forces him to remember Grace and the life he lost and have this new life imprinted in his brain. It's like two lives that are battling for dominance in his mind.

He's sitting in his living room with a teacup in his hand, but his mind is far too troubled to focus on his tea. He's thinking about the tea parties he used to have with Grace, and the force of the memory is causing him to tremble. His hand is shaking so violently that it causes the hot tea to slosh out and burn his skin. Soon the memory becomes too much for him to handle, and with a scream, he throws the delicate china cup at the wall, causing it to shatter and stain the wallpaper with the brown liquid it was holding.

Almost immediately, he hears hurried footsteps, and a moment later, the owner of the footsteps, a girl named Fiona, comes stumbling to a stop at the door. She's always been a clumsy girl.

"Are you alright? I heard you scream," she says, her voice set in a worried tone. Of course, she's worried, she's always scared.

"I'm fine." he snaps at her. He has yet to move off the couch to clean up the mess he caused, but he finds that she has already beaten him to it. She quickly grabs a small towel from the kitchen then begins wiping away the tea from the wall.

"Why did you get upset?" she asks him quietly. She's finished wiping away the tea and is now gathering the broken china pieces into the towel.

"For the same reason I do every other time," he growls and stands, kicking some stray pillows out of his way while he goes to the kitchen. Fiona follows after him and tosses the broken pieces of china in the garbage. He looks out the window and sees that his garden is looking as pristine and perfect as always, which means her job’s done. He glances back at the girl who was, as always, covered in dirt. Her jeans are even ripped from the thorns on the rose bushes.

"You're done for the day. You can leave now," he says and snatches the towel out of her grubby hands. She looks at the floor as red fills her cheeks.

"I just wanted to help you..." she says softly.

Jefferson feels momentarily guilty for treating her so harshly, but then his guilt is dissolved when he remembers how horrible his life is now. He'd even take Wonderland over this!

"I thank you for it, but that's not your job. So you can leave now," he snarls. She hesitates, and Jefferson's anger explodes. "Leave now!" he shouts at her. The girl jumps and practically runs away from him, and a moment later, he hears the door slam.

Jefferson wanders back to his couch and collapses on to the sofa. Grace won't be home for another hour, so he curls up and closes his eyes, allowing the memories of his past life to take over his mind.

Today, the memories are about Fiona.

In Storybrooke, she works as Jefferson's gardener because he has an enormous garden in the back of his mansion. She spends most of her time in the garden because it takes her hours to go through everything. It doesn't bother her, though, because she often prefers being in nature compared to being trapped indoors. Jefferson blames that on her other life, back home in their world. Back home, her actual name was not Fiona; it was Preziosa. She was a princess of small land. Jefferson had heard rumours about her family. He had heard that her mother, the queen, was a kind and beautiful woman who was fair to her subjects. The king, however, was supposedly mean, ugly and insane. One day to everyone's dismay, the queen died, and the deranged king decided to marry Preziosa, his daughter, because he deemed her to be the only woman who could match his deceased wife's beauty.

So the terrified Preziosa ran away from her home.

Her father sent his soldiers to bring her back, but before they could find her, Preizosa found an elderly woman who gave her a wood piece. She encouraged Preziosa to bite the wood because it would save her. So she did and turned into a bear. An actual bear. The woman who had given her the stick was an enchantress. So Preziosa escaped her father, but one day she was captured by a strange, cruel man and she was far too gentle to fight back, and the man sold her to a scummy traveller. Of course, Preziosa was still in the bear form at the time because she was frightened that she’d be brought back to her father if she were to turn back into a human. So the gypsy would bring her to different fairs and markets, and she would carry children around on her back like she was a horse instead of a bear.

It was at a market that Jefferson himself first met the she-bear. He found it odd that a bear would be gentle enough to allow children to ride on its back, and he also found it strange that the bear carried a piece of wood in its mouth. However, he had more significant matters on his mind with Grace and selling mushrooms to give the subject too much thought.

The sky was beginning to turn dark when Jefferson and Grace pack up and start to head home for the day. As they were leaving, Grace grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to a stop. She was looking at the bear, chained to a post. The traveller went to the tavern to drink her problems away.

"Papa, that bear is trapped..." she says quietly.

"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it. Sorry, love," he says as he scoops up the little girl. As gentle as the bear may have seemed before, there's no telling what it would do to a girl like Grace, and there was no way he would ever put her in any danger. So he carries her home, and soon the bear has wholly been erased from his mind.

When they return to the market a few days later, the bear is nowhere to be found. But on their way home through the woods, Grace points out something very unusual.

"Papa, look!" she whispers excitedly and points to the river. There sits a young woman with long, dark hair. She has water cupped in her raised hands, and she lets it trickle over her hair, and she messages it in with her fingers. Sitting beside her is a piece of wood with teeth marks in it. It's then that Grace steps on a stick, causing it to snap. The girl jumps and looks at them, her eyes wild with fright. She grabs the piece of wood and jumps in the river, running through the water quickly to get to the other side. Grace begins running after her before Jefferson could grab her. By the time they reach the riverbank, the girl is gone- in her place is a black bear.

Jefferson hadn't expected Fiona to come back the next day, but she did. She arrived around 10 am, with a few scones from Granny's in a paper bag. He was gazing through his telescope when he heard her knock. He walked to the door and looked through the peephole and is somewhat surprised to see the familiar dark-haired girl. He opens the door, and she immediately thrusts the paper bag into his hands.

"Don't yell at me again, please," she says quietly as she shoves the bag harder against his hands. He chews on his bottom lip, and he knows he should apologize for his outburst yesterday.

"I won't... I, ugh, I'm sorry for yesterday-"

"It's fine. I'm heading to the back; enjoy your scones. I also got your strawberry jam; I know you like it." Fiona says and quickly makes her way to the house’s back. He opens the bag and glances in; she did get strawberry jam. He forgot she knew he liked it.

He makes his way back to the kitchen and flicks on the kettle while he grabs a place. Grace had already left for school two hours ago, so he had another long day waiting for her to come home.

While he spreads the jam over his scone, he glances out the large window and sees Fiona kneeling amongst the rose bushes. He takes in her appearance; ratty blue jeans, a large oversized and stained grey shirt and black sneakers that look like they're about to come apart at the seams. Her wild hair is pulled into an attempt at a braid, but he knows it'll come apart soon. One of the things he's noticed about her is that her hair cannot hold in a braid.

The loud whistling of the kettle soon fills the air, so he collects a bag of tea and plops it into the pot and then fills it with boiling water. While he waits for it to steep, he munches on his scones. They taste good, still warm and the jam practically melts over them. However, a sudden memory hits him so hard that the scone falls from his now shaking hand. He remembers eating strawberries with Grace when she was small, and her little mouth would get covered in the red juice. She'd look up at him with her brown eyes sparkling, and her mouth set in a grin how he loved it when she did that.

A sudden rumble of thunder causes him to come painfully once again back to reality. His eyes travel back to the window, and he sees a few drops of rain- but then with another loud rumble of thunder, a downpour erupts.

"Shit," he mutters. He stands, collects his plate, drops it into the sink, and begins to pour his tea. The rain makes it difficult to see Grace through the telescope, which bothers him immensely. He hopes she brought her raincoat to school.

Jefferson pours himself some tea before settling in his favourite chair with a book. His mansion came with a fully stocked bookshelf, but they were all from this world and were strange and unfamiliar to him. He can't afford to complain because he knows he has no other option for entertainment, so he grabs a book by the name of the "Princess Bride" and sits down, preparing to waste away several hours before his Grace comes home.

It is about two hours later when he finally tears his eyes away from the pages. His teacup has long since been drained, and he finds himself craving some more. He stands and stretches his sore muscles, frowning when he hears cracks coming from his elbows and knees. He grabs his teacup and heads to the kitchen and turns on the burner so the teapot will begin to heat up.

He looks out the window and finds that it is still raining out. He notices that the delicate flowers in his garden are beginning to bend under the water’s weight.

It’s only then done he remember Fiona, who was in the garden. He looks back up and doesn't see her besides the rose bushes, so he can only guess that she has run to the shed. He could let her stay there, but he knows the shed leaks and has already been out there for a long time. So he grabs an umbrella and makes his way outside. He walks through the wet grass, shivering as the moisture makes its way through his shoes. He finally reaches the shed and pushes the door open and finds his suspicions to be confirmed. Fiona sits huddled on an old workbench with her arms shoved inside her large shirt. She looks up at him with a look of pure surprise. He rolls his eyes.

"Stop staring at me and come here," he sighs. The girl jumps up and quickly goes to him, huddling her shaking body against his. He doesn't offer much body warmth, but it's better than nothing. The two begin walking back to the mansion silently with Fiona still pressed to Jefferson's side.

Once they get back inside, Jefferson instructs Fiona to make herself some tea while he gets blankets from the upstairs bedroom. He grabs a fluffy quilt and makes his way back downstairs.

"Come to the living room," he calls out as he reaches the stairs’ end. He makes his way to the room, grabs his book and flops on the couch. The cushions let out a whistle of air as his weight settles on to them. Fiona enters a moment later, with two cups of tea in her hands. She makes her way to the couch and carefully sets the tea on the coffee table before settling on to the sofa herself. He tosses the quilt over her tiny frame, and she pulls it close, relishing the direct heat.

"Thank you," she says quietly, peering at him from over the quilt.

"You're welcome," he answers and grabs his tea. He takes a long sip, and the liquid warms his body. Fiona reaches forward and takes the tea in her hands, letting the heat of the cup warm her chilled hands.

"Why are you so kind today?" she asks him but immediately looks regretful and opens her mouth to apologize, but Jefferson raises his hand as a sign to stop.

"Do you normally think I'm mean?" he asks her.

"Not mean... Just- Annoyed. Sad maybe. I think you're a lot of things," she admits.

Jefferson turns and altogether looks at his gardener, who's now practically hidden under the quilt. Some of the residents of Storybrooke have become entirely different people than who they were. Some of them have become meaner, others kinder, and others quieter. But she has stayed the same. She's still Preziosa, the frightened she-bear who is too gentle and too soft for her good.

"Are you mad at me?" she asks him quietly.

"No. Now no more questions or I'll put you back into the shed," Jefferson replies. Fiona closes her mouth tightly and looks away from him. Jefferson lets out a small sigh and grabs his book, using it as a shield to hide his face from her.

Jefferson can't deny that she's right; he’s not kind to her, at least not often. Jefferson can't exactly explain why he's often rude and cruel to Fiona. Perhaps it's because he finds her childlike innocence too much like Grace. Maybe it's because he hates that she can't remember who she is, so it's a constant reminder that he's alone in this world. Or maybe it's because he's too scared to allow himself to care for another person other than Grace. He only allowed himself to do that once, with Grace's mother. And what happened with that woman left him feeling broken and unwanted. He doesn't want to feel like that ever again. So he will only allow himself to care about Grace and no one else.

Or at least, that's what he's going to try to do.


	2. Bruises

The next day, Jefferson's eyes slowly open, the pain of his headache, making him immediately regretting his decision. He feels gross, his skin feels so hot, and his head feels like someone is pounding on it with an iron hammer. Jefferson wonders how he managed to get so sick; he remembers the night of drinking he had. He looks down to see the now empty bottle of Scotch, and the reason for his illness becomes abundantly clear: a brutal hangover. He glances at the alarm clock beside his bed, and the red numbers make him lurch out of bed. 11:42 am, well past 8 am, when Grace usually gets the bus. He's always up to see her every day, but today he slept through it. How the hell could he do that!?

He groans and buries his face into the pillow. He drank last night because he felt like shit, per usual, and he found a bottle of alcohol in one of the cupboards. So, he drank himself into oblivion and found that it worked. He passed out, and for a few blessed hours, he could slip away and dream about a time when he was happy back in his home in his real life. But then it came to an end when he woke up, as it always did.

There's no point in getting up now, so he might as well just stay in bed for the rest of the day. However, soon the need for water and food drove him from his soft bed and down to the kitchen. He almost tumbles down the stairs in the process, the splitting headache making him shaky. He finally reaches the kitchen, surprisingly unscathed, and turns on the kettle. He then fills up a glass of water and raises it to his lips, letting the cold liquid soothe the hot skin on his lips. He swallows almost half the glass, hoping it would rid himself of this headache. Steam is begging to rise from the kettle, and he can hear the water bubble as it heats up. He grabs a cup from the cupboard and places it on the counter, throwing a teabag in as well. While he waits for the kettle to finish boiling, he grabs an apple from the fridge and takes a big bite out of it. It's old now and has that woody taste, but he remembers how he would worry about where Grace's next meal would come from, so he gladly eats the apple. The kettle begins whistling, and Jefferson pours his tea, hoping this would help his headache because the water seems to be doing no good.

As he sips the steaming drink, he scans the backyard looking for Fiona. He hasn't heard any signs of her, and he doesn't see her anywhere, which is very unusual. She's never missed a day of work, even when she's been sick and looked to be on death's doorstep- she's never missed a day.

He goes to the porch and slides on his shoes, and goes outside. It's nice today, not too hot and not too cold, but the sunlight immediately makes his hand fly to cover his eyes.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself as he trudges through the expansive yard, searching for his gardener.

Jefferson searches the entire garden and the shed, which takes him well over an hour, but no sign of her anywhere. He's not exactly worried, but he's surprised that she didn't show up. She lives in a little house not too far up the road; he could check on her. It would waste away the rest of the day until Grace gets home. He drew his jacket a little tighter around his body, he was still in his clothes from yesterday, but it didn't bother him and made his way back to the front of the house and up the path. He walks as quickly as possible, and it doesn't take him long to reach the cottage. Her yard is covered in flowers of all different shapes and colours. He sees roses, phlox, lilacs, and Butterfly bushes and other things he doesn't know the name of. Her yard is beautiful and bright with all the plants inhabiting it. He walks through them, careful not to step on anything. He reaches the door and knocks once. He hears the shuffle of feet and the door opens, but only a crack. The only thing he can see belonging to Fiona is a quarter of her face.

"Oh, hi... I'm sorry I didn't come in today. I'm not feeling well," she says quietly. Her voice sounds coarse like she's been crying. He raises an eyebrow and tries his best to examine her from the bit he can see, but she soon hides even that behind the door.

"What's wrong?" he asks her. He looks suspicious and his hand is resting over the doorknob as if he plans to push it open. She presses more of her weight against the door, hoping to keep him out.

"Nothing is wrong," she answers him and begins to close the door, but his hand quickly slams against it and she stumbles back.

"Don't lie to me. Let me in," he snaps.

"No! Go away, pleased!" Fiona cries and throws her weight against the door in an attempt to close it, but he's a hell of a lot stronger than she is and she stands no chance against him.

"Fiona, please, let me help you." Jefferson sighs. Fiona stops pushing against the door and she finds her whole body shaking. She knows how to mean he can be, but maybe he's actually becoming kinder. She steps back, allowing the door to swing open. Jefferson steps in and examines the small woman. He notices something that definitely looks off, but he can't be sure what it is because she's hiding in a shadow.

"Step into the light," he instructs. She swallows hard before eventually walking towards a window where the sunlight is streaming in. The light reveals something that makes Jefferson cringe; her body is covered in bruises. Her lip is split, her right eye is completely swollen and the skin has turned black. Another cut is on her cheek and a dark blue bruise lies under it. Her shirt has fallen down her shoulder which has revealed multiple bruises. She has her left leg bent and her ankle looks to be swollen, possibly sprained.

"Who did this to you?" he snarls as he walks towards her. She immediately jumps back, pressing herself into a corner. She looks terrified of him, which makes Jefferson come to a halt at the sight of her.

"I... I fell," she says quietly.

"I don't believe you,” Jefferson remarks quietly while his eyes glide up and down her body. 

"I fall all the time! You see me do it!" Fiona cries.

"Those bruises are made by hands and those cuts on your face are by a ring. I've seen things like this before, don't try to lie to me and tell me otherwise," Jefferson says softly. Fiona's trembling and has her arms crossed over her chest and more tears are making their way down her cheeks.

"How did you know that someone did this?" she asks him, looking up at him with watery eyes.

Jefferson chews on his bottom lip because he can't give her a legitimate answer. Back in his real home, before he had Grace, he had a rough life. Of course, he had his hat, but sometimes he would wind up at some bar and he had seen more than one brutal bar fight and that's how he came to know bruises. Sometimes he'd even get them on his own body after he would get in a fight with some drunken idiot. But he can't possibly tell that to Fiona because she still has no recollection of that past life, so he says the first thing that pops into his head. "My brother used to fight a lot."

Her eyebrows pop up. "I didn't know you had a brother," she says. Jefferson didn't lie, he did have a brother, but he died when he was only 14 because he fell into a well and drowned. It's not something he tells a lot of people.

"I don't talk about him much, but now's not the time for that. This person did they only beat you, or was it...?" Jefferson trails off, not wanting to say the word. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud. Nor does Fiona answer him directly, but her physical reaction is enough. Her head snaps sideways, a hand flies to cover her mouth and more tears soon stream down her face and her body begins shaking again. Jefferson grimaces and rubs his face, hard. 

"I’m sorry this happened to you," is all he can muster. 

"I didn't mean to, I didn't want to at all but I was on my way home yesterday and he just came out of nowhere and I just-” Fiona doesn’t finish her sentence, instead she just chews her lip and leans back against the wall. Jefferson is silent for a long time before he finally answers her. 

"I would never blame you for this. Why didn't you come to me?" he asks her.

"I didn't think you'd care," she says quietly, looking up at him with now bloodshot eyes. Jefferson feels sudden guilt upon hearing her words.

"I do care. I’m sorry I never made that clear to you," he says quietly. Fiona quickly shakes her head which causes even more tears to fall. "I know I'm not exactly a nice guy and I’ve lashed out at you in the past, and it is not fair to you. l can't have you stay here by yourself, not with some creep around here. I’ll do my best to make you comfortable. Pack some things and you can come to stay at my house until... You feel better. Maybe we should go to the police though-"

"No! Please no! I don't want anyone to know!" she screams at him. 

"You might be unwell-" Jefferson tells her, still not convinced by her response. 

"Please! Please don't make me go there. I don't want them to see me like this." Fiona tells him. The woman looks so miserable that Jefferson doesn't have the heart to argue, instead, he simply nods and she limps away to pack her things. While she does that, Jefferson wanders around her house. It's simple, with no large or fancy furnishings. A few paintings of flowers and trees with some small woodland creatures. Jefferson snorts; her old life must creep up in her memories. 

"What are you doing?"

Her sudden voice makes him jump and almost tumble over the coffee table. Fiona's lips break into a smile, which Jefferson is glad to see even if he was the reason for it. He straightens himself up and nods.

"You ready?" he inquiries, eyeing her small pack. 

"I guess as ready as I can be considering the situation," she responds. Jefferson goes to the door and opens it, waiting for her to follow. They walk in silence down the path and along the road, but he can see her growing increasingly anxious as they walk. She looks like she's about to burst into tears all over again, so Jefferson does the only thing he can think of; quickly wrap his left arm around her shoulders and pull her close. She's caught off guard at the sudden contact and stumbles into his side.

"It's ok, Fiona. You're not alone this time," he says softly. She's still shaking but she breathes in and out slowly, nodding eventually. 

It doesn't take them too long to get back to the house. Once there, Jefferson takes her to the room she can stay in. It's on the top floor and it has dark purple walls, with a large bed with pale blue sheets. There are a chair and a bookcase, along with a small bathroom attached to it. Fiona hesitantly walks into it, letting her hand run across the silk of the sheets.

"Is this okay?" Jefferson asks her.

"Thank you," she replies.

Jefferson stands there rather awkwardly for a moment before he finally speaks again. "Well, I'm going to go make some lunch. You can get settled and don't bother with the garden today, it can survive on its own for a while." He tells her and then quickly leaves. Partially due to the awkwardness but also because he is now once again fully aware of his headache, which hadn't really left him but the shock of the events had managed to make him forget about it for a while. But now it has hit him like a brick wall and he runs down to the kitchen for more water and maybe some sort of pill he could take to get rid of this damn pain.

Once in the kitchen, he downs another glass of water along with some red pill called "Advil". Hopefully, that does the trick. He begins rummaging through his fridge for some sort of food. He finds eggs and settles for scrambled eggs and toast. 

Once the eggs have been scrambled, the toast buttered and the tea has steeped, he takes a plate backup for Fiona. But as he nears her room, he hears more sobbing. Jefferson uses his elbow to knock on the door and the sobs immediately stop. The door opens a moment later and Jefferson walks in. Fiona's hair is wet and she's wearing an enormous grey sweater and large black pants. 

"I'm sorry you heard me," she says quietly.

"You've been through a traumatic event. You have every reason to cry," he tells her as he lays the plate of food and a cup of tea on the side table. Fiona has taken a seat on the bed and has her arms wrapped around her legs and her long hair is covering her body. He can see the droplets of water from her hair that now stain her sweater, causing icy shivers to ripple through her.

"I feel angry,” she says, so quietly, Jefferson barely heard her. Before he responds, he gets up and takes a spare blanket from the closet and drapes it over her small frame. His hand lingers on her shoulders before he walks to the door. 

“You’re going to, for a long time. I’ll be downstairs.” Jefferson tells her, and pads out of the room, leaving her curled up on the bed. 

  
  



	3. The Monster

It's been a week and a half since Fiona had moved into his mansion. The bruises are starting to fade, her lip is starting to scab and her eye isn't so swollen anymore. Jefferson knows that despite the physical evidence is disappearing, the emotional damage is still catastrophic. She cries... A lot. He'll see her in the garden and she'll suddenly stop what she's doing and her hand will fly to her mouth and he will see her shoulders begin to tremble. He debates going out and trying to talk with her but sometimes he wonders if male companionship is the best thing for her at the moment. Sometimes, when they'll both be inside after the long day, he'll accidentally brush up against her hip and she'll jump about five feet in the air. However, the worst is the nightmares she has. It's usually around 2 am and he can hear a small scream than muffled sobs. It's getting really bad.

"Maybe you should go talk to someone," he suggests as she places a cup of tea in front of him. She quickly scurries back to the kitchen, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't want anyone else to know. Please, Jefferson," she begs and looks at him, her eyes mimicking her begs. Jefferson can only sigh and run his hands through his hair. He then stands and begins walking to his telescope.

"Fine. Do whatever you want, Fiona. But this isn't healthy." he says. She doesn't answer him and instead quickly runs into the backyard. He hears the door slam.

He looks into the telescope and sees Grace walking out of her house. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she's giggling at something her "father" has said to her. Jefferson feels his anger rise. It should be him making her laugh. Soon Grace boards her bus, waving a final time to the man who was waiting on the sidewalk. He goes back into his house and Grace has driven away to school for the long six hours.

Jefferson sighs and flops down on the couch. Another long day of doing nothing while he waits for Grace to come back home.

He has finished The Princess Bride and has moved on to something called Harry Potter. This has magic in it, which he approves of. He's on page 30 when he hears her scream. This is a different sounding scream. It's not the one she makes when she's snapped out of a nightmare. This is a generally terrified, blood-curdling scream. The book falls to the ground as he sprints out of the living room, through the kitchen and then throws himself out the door. That's when he sees her, curled up in the cold grass and the disgusting looking man on top of her. He has a fistful of her long hair and his mouth glued to her ear. Jefferson finds himself beside them in a second, the man's collar in his hand and he feels himself toss the man like a rag doll. He lands with a groan and Jefferson can smell the alcohol off him.

Fiona has stopped crying. And now she has her shovel in her hands. It almost happens in slow motion and Jefferson tries to grab her arm, but he is just a second too late. She raises the shovel and brings it down so hard on the man's head that Jefferson hears a crack and soon blood seeps from his hairline.

Jefferson is frozen at the sight of the innocent girl bashing the man's head with a shovel. She gets one more hit in before Jefferson comes to his senses and grabs her arms, knocking the shovel out of her grasp. She looks at him with her angry bloodshot eyes and yells at him.

"No! Let me-"

"If you do this, you're throwing your life away! You'll get caught and not him! Fiona, it isn't worth it," he says calmly, trying his best to soothe the furious woman- but she is far from calm.

"He hurt me!" she screams at him.

"Hurting him back won't make it any better. Believe me, I know. If you do this you will regret it forever." he says. She stops struggling and begins trembling. No tears come out. There are no more tears left to shed.

"Go inside, I'll take care of him," he says softly. She nods and staggers inside. He looks back at the man, and suddenly something dawns on him that makes him sick to his stomach. The man is Fiona, well technically Preziosa's, father. The insane king who wanted to marry his daughter.

The man groans and pushes himself up. One of his eyes is squeezed shut, probably from Fiona's shovel. He sees Jefferson and immediately crawls backwards, pure fear in his eyes.

"Get up." Jefferson snarls at the man.

He does as instructed and scrambles to his feet. Jefferson nudges his back with the shovel, making him walk towards the woods behind the mansion's garden. They walk for a good half an hour before Jefferson tugs the man to a stop. There's a layer of filth and dirt on his jacket.

"Don't you ever come back here again," Jefferson says, his voice was so low and cold that the man shudders. He gives the man a final shove before turning around and beginning to walk back.

"Ha. I’ll be back. You won't get rid of me. Neither will she.” the man shouts, deranged. Jefferson comes to a stop and glances back.

"What did you say?” 

“I decide what to do here. It’s my way, I get whoever or whatever I want. I’ll get her, and you’ll just have to watch-“ 

The man doesn't finish his sentence. Jefferson has swung around, bring his shovel with it. It hits the deranged man in the head and he slumps to the ground. Jefferson bashes his head in, completely ignoring the advice he had given to Fiona a mere hour before. When this disgusting piece of filth started talking about young girls, Jefferson was seeing red. When the thought about this scum touching Grace, he's thrown over the edge.

When he eventually stops beating the man, the shovel is covered with blood and the deranged king is no more.

He stumbles back to his house. He's covered in blood and he knows he'll have to explain this to Fiona. He buried the body and has plans to destroy the shovel before anyone else can ever find it.

He finally returns to his house and finds Fiona waiting in the kitchen for him. She gasps and nearly tumbles off the counter when she sees him. She shakes her head and covers her eyes with her hands.

"You told me-"

"Forget what I told you. He said things to me that would've made you throw up. The world is better off without that piece of shit in it." he snaps. She suddenly jumps off the counter and slaps him so hard he stumbles.

"What the hell was that for?!" he shouts at her.

"This was my responsibility! This was my problem! You didn't have anything to do with it! I should have been the one to do that to him! Why didn't you just let me do it!?" she screams at him. Jefferson grabs her arms and pins them to the counter, staring at her with a vicious look on his face.

"I didn't let you do it because you're too good. You're innocent and pure but I'm not. If you had killed him, you wouldn't have been able to live with yourself. But I'm not good and certainly not pure! So I could do this for you. You should be thanking me, not hitting me." he snaps. She sinks to the floor and puts her head on her knees. More bruises are forming on her arms.

"You shouldn't have done that for me, Jefferson," she says softly.

"Well, it's done now. And don't ever hit me again," he says and then quickly walks out of the kitchen. He makes his way up the washroom and quickly turns on the shower. He rips off his soiled clothing and throws them into a heap on the floor. He steps into the scalding shower and rubs his face vigorously, wiping off the blood that had splattered across his cheeks. He looks at the drain and sees the red swirling around before being sucked into the black circle. He groans and leans forwards, resting his head against the glass panel as the realization of his actions hit him.

He's just killed, someone.


End file.
